The Fortunate Side-Effects of an Unfortunate Potion
by MiaGhost
Summary: Harry simply detests his Potions class. (And everybody hates Malfoy.) But when a Crabbe&Goyle mix-up results in Malfoy ingesting a mysterious Potion meant for Harry's cauldron, will the resulting oddness be just what they need to bridge the gap between them? (Only Rated M because i'm overly cautious. Future Chapters may contain threat/violence/fear and/or some explicit scenes.)
1. A Disappearance

_Chapter One_

Harry hated Potions. He just _hated_ Potions. He hated the too-difficult subject, he hated the depressing classroom, he _hated_ the Professor, and he didn't much like taking the blasted things themselves.

Potions stood for all the things Harry had never found much patience for. Patience itself, for one. Accidents, and extended stays in the Hospital Wing.

Precision with a bladed object.

He had a steady hand when holding a wand, and his timing was spot on when diving through the air on his broom, but hand him a knife and something wriggly, or give him a stirring rod and tell him exactly when to drop the leaves into the blue sludge to make it turn into purple foam, and he faltered.

He _knew_ he faltered.

He closed his eyes every time he had to perform any of the crucial steps in Potion-Making, (and every step seemed crucial, there was never room to breathe), and cringed when he finally let go of whatever substance to which he was reluctantly clinging, almost always after hesitating just too long.

He knew his hatred was partly down to the Professor's hatred of him, but also knew that even the nicest teacher in the world would still probably struggle to interest him in the subject. He much preferred to be outside, at Care of Magical Creatures or, better yet, Quidditch Practice.

Harry sighed yet again at the fact there was no natural light in the room, no window to look out at the world from. He noted miserably that he reacted much like an animal that had been caged when you took away his view of the sky, the horizon, the lake, the quidditch field.

Harry was, to his slight chagrin, thinking wistfully of the high windows in Gryffindor Tower when the blinding flash of pain across his forehead made him bark a sharp hiss of pain. He toppled from his stool in shock, hands flying instantly to both Scar and Wand even as he landed awkwardly on the icy stone floor of the Dungeon Lab. His head was searing, a blue-hot flame running rampant behind his eyes even as he got his bearings and managed to focus again.

Scrambling to his feet and opening his eyes with a wince, Harry wasn't entirely surprised to see the whole classroom staring at him with varying expressions. He fought the heat creeping onto his face as he pocketed his wand again, wishing he couldn't hear the aggressive rash of whispering that was breaking out.

He risked a glance at the Professor, and winced again when their eyes connected. Harry slumped his shoulders and returned to his desk, righting his stool before meekly sliding onto it. He studiously avoided the concerned and rather fearful eyes of Ron and Hermione and the sniggering from the Slytherins as Snape continued to gaze at him with that unreadably dark expression for several seconds, before sneering and uttering the inevitable mocking remark.

Harry barely heard it though, not when all sound in the room seemed to die as a thin, yet remarkably mournful sort of mewing- _pop_ echoed throughout the classroom.

And then, directly in Harry's line of sight, on his way back from the Supply Cupboard, a little glass jar in each hand, Draco Malfoy disappeared.

Or rather, he seemed to fall through the floor. Harry, buzzing and edgy from his shock, was already on his feet and over his desk, wand again in hand on instinct before he knew where he was, long seconds before everyone else began to shout and a frenzy of hurried movement whirled the air into a panicked blaze of surprise, fear and wonder. Draco's dark robes lay in a large heap on the floor, and even as Harry, astride Professor Snape, drew near, he knew it couldn't be his imagination that the dark pile was _moving_.

Grasping the heavy robe material, Snape whipped it from the ground like a whip crack, as he did so dislodging the small bundle inside. Harry knew he wasn't the only one to jump.

However, he knew his silent tongue was the only one not whispering in shock as the bundle tried to right itself and toppled again, instead turning it's head towards the class and revealing the wide-eyed face of a child.


	2. Quick-Fire Impulses

_Chapter Two_

Draco Malfoy, Harry was sure it was indeed him somehow, sat ruffled on the stone floor, ash-blonde hair untidy and falling into his round grey eyes, legs entangled in a pair of black slacks which, although shrunken as he seemed to have been, were overly large on him. As the whole room stood in silent shock, staring incredulously at the child, Harry, having taken everything in in a heartbeat or so due to the fact his body thought he was in danger, surprised himself.

He stared at the tiny figure and felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. The fact that the child's clothes were far too big hit home, and it stung. He'd spent his entire life wearing clothes that were too big for him, and as the mini-Draco tried again in vain to get up, obviously feeling vulnerable and exposed so low down compared to the room filled with large people, Harry's chest seemed to curl into a knot and try to choke him. Still, nobody seemed able to move, not even to help the child get up, and those large grey eyes darted between all of them helplessly. The child fell again, and this time shuffled backwards a little, putting distance between himself and the others as he proceeded to try again to reach his feet.

Harry looked to Snape, impatient, but the man seemed positively stricken, his black eyes shocked and wide, lips slightly parted, face paler than usual. The still air had gone on long enough for Harry. He was tense and on edge from the heat in his Scar, bursting with a burning need to _do_ something. He swallowed, and glanced back down at the child, who looked so helplessly out of his depth, and opened his mouth.

"Professor?"

Everybody in the room visibly winced at the sudden sound, loud despite being softly spoken. Harry hadn't heard the whispering die. His tentative question broke the spell, and chaos erupted. Harry took his turn to wince at the sudden onslaught of sound, but felt his stomach clench at the expression of fear on the child's face. Snape strode swiftly towards the small child, wand drawn and expression grim. The child inexplicably looked to Harry with overly-shiny grey eyes and drew himself up, and the action was so telling and so very _Malfoy_ that suddenly Harry felt the surreality fade. For him, at least.

"Quiet! Be _quiet_! You, child! State your name!" snapped Snape, and Harry felt an unexpected surge of anger towards the Professor. Oh sure, he hated Snape, but to speak to a small child like that? The thing looked almost a baby, barely a toddler. Harry choked on his next breath when the child swallowed and stated, in a surprisingly confident, albeit very small voice that his name was " _Draco Lucius Malfoy_."

The mad whispering grew even more frenzied than before as people started pushing forwards while battling to keep at what felt a safe distance. Had he not felt so serious, Harry might have laughed at the sight. Some Slytherins especially were giving Harry's senses the distinct impression that the child, that _Malfoy_ was suddenly their sole interest, and Harry was suspicious it was not completely in a good way. It was be just like the Slytherins he knew to take advantage of any weakness, even of those who were supposed to be their friends.

As if to prove him right, Pansy Parkinson shoved to the front and opened her mouth to say something which Harry felt sure would be to call the child or tell Snape to hand him over. He made a snap-fire decision on gut instinct, as was his tendency. Something else, he thought, briefly and sarcastically, that he actually _could_ do when the time called for it. Striding forward so as to beat Pansy to the punch, Harry approached the Malfoy child and somehow managed enough grace to sweep him up, startled when the child reached for him too, with hands half-hidden in the too-long sleeves of his little white dress-shirt, and practically threw his compact little body into Harry's grip.

And of course, now, not entirely sure what had possessed him to now be facing off his most hated Professor and his classmates, while also bizarrely cradling a child-version of his nemesis, Harry had to wait the inevitable three seconds of silence before the obvious storm of an inter-house battle pounced into being, right there in the Potions class.

"Potter!" screeched Pansy. "Put him down _this instant_!"

Harry shot her a glare as her voice caused the child to whimper.

"You're scaring him!" he snapped back, as the child hid his face in Harry's robes.

Harry felt his anger boiling in his stomach, a heavy sense of injustice making it hard to breathe. The shouting in the room erupted, and Harry panicked about the fact that he'd be unable to draw his wand very quickly should this turn into a proper duel. He doubted his Housemates would actually fire on him, but Slytherins were not known for missing a chance to get a leg up on the competition.

"Potter! What on earth do you think you're doing? Unhand that child at once!" roared Snape, and Harry was startled to find that the usually stoic and snarky Professor looked almost human, something very like _fear_ written in his eyes. Still, Harry held the child closer and shook his head firmly, swallowing his own fear at the sight of Snape's wand still gripped firmly in hand. What did the greasy git think he'd do? Attack a _child_? Wasn't anyone aware that _he_ , of all people, would be vehemently against the attacking of infants? Snape's obsidian eyes flashed dangerously.

"No." stated Harry, turning his body away a little, protective of the now-trembling child in his arms. The child turned his face further into Harry's shoulder and pressed closer. Harry's anger rose. It wasn't fair. Nobody should frighten a child this small, make him feel so... so... he swallowed as the uncomfortable cold wash of memory flooded his senses. So _alone_.

"Potter!"

"You're _frightening_ him, stop shouting!" roared Harry, aware of the hypocrisy of his words. The Gryffindors in the classroom immediately snapped their mouths shut, even though he could see their reluctance and the words in their eyes, and the hunger for answers in Hermione's especially.


	3. The First Meeting

_Chapter Three_

Harry rubbed his nose, the newest piece of tape holding the bridge of his glasses together curling and rubbing against his skin and his patience, his sticking charm wearing off. He really needed to get Hermione to teach him the spell she used. He'd often tried it but with little success.

He tuned out the grumble of Snape's newest complaints to the Headmaster. His bicep still throbbed dully from the Potion Master's tight grip. The Slytherin had dragged Harry bodily along corridors and up stairs to the HeadMaster's office, cursing everything from Gryffindors to idiotic teenagers and the Headmaster himself. His obsidian eyes had burned with a dangerous darkness as he had fumed and sped along the corridors, aided by long legs and probably getting some dark satisfaction from dragging the Gryffindor behind. Harry had only just managed to control his temper, mostly restrained by sympathy for the little one he carried. The kid had hidden his face the whole way, and his fear of Snape was evident. He had remained shy and subdued, clinging to Harry's robes as though he could trust no-one else. Harry hadn't yet had time to process how he felt about that.

They had been sitting in the Headmaster's office for hours, arguing, debating, and trying to make sense of what had gone on. Harry had adamantly refused to hand the child over to Snape, and the blonde had displayed an obvious refutal of any and all suggestions to leave his chosen safety in Harry's grasp.

His own Head of House had been in and out of the room over the hours, and was making enquiries with his year mates in their Common Room, having them to skip their morning classes, and now the Slytherin were missing their own afternoon ones, Harry supposed. She had recounted the almost unanimous account of the occurrence, filling Dumbledore in on what had happened.

She had even been to the classroom to investigate and collected Draco's robes and wand, along with both their bags and various other belongings, bringing them with her. The woman was in an almost frighteningly focused state which betrayed just how deeply serious a matter they were dealing with. There were so many implications and issues being raised that had not yet fully sunk in to Harry's still shocked state of mind. He was operating on the same version of autopilot which took over during his encounters with dark wizards; his mind focusing on working out what had happened and making sure Snape didn't get his slimy hands on the little boy who was at the centre of the whole mess, without his brain allowing him to get bogged down in fears and worries.

Harry tuned back in as Dumbledore spoke up, his tone conveyed that he had a theory.

"It looks like two almost identical-looking Potions must have been placed in the same robe pocket of whoever is responsible, and the wrong one ended up as an extra ingredient in Mr Potter's cauldron. The other potion, the one intended it seems for Harry, must have been ingested by Mr Malfoy at some point, perhaps during the course of his own potion's construction. Presuming of course, that you are still in the practice of insisting your students test their own potions."

The old man's eyes twinkled as he spoke to the fuming Snape, and Harry felt the odd urge to grin, despite the circumstances. In the tense seconds of silence, while Harry watched Snape fighting to say something but not, and while Dumbledore himself, seemingly oblivious, opened a desk drawer in what looked like an attempt to find that bag of pear-drops he had mentioned earlier, Harry felt the cause of the whole situation shift in his arms. The wide grey eyes looked up at Harry and spoke in a bewildered tone.

"But if you put extra ingredients in your potions it makes them go wrong."

The entire group stared at him as he looked at them, and then back at Harry.

"Did you put extra things in your Potion, Harry? Is that why you're in trouble?"

Harry looked down at the little person in surprise, and felt his eyebrows furrow.

"Well, _no_ , not exactly."

"Draco, my clever boy, Harry's not in trouble. We're simply trying to sort out a problem together, that's all."

Malfoy looked like he didn't believe the old man speaking to him so softly, and pointed meekly to Snape.

"But Uncle Severus shouted at him, really _really_ loud. _And_ he had his wand pointed right at us too! Harry _must_ be in trouble with him!"

The child's voice rose in emotion, and even before he'd finished he was shrinking back against Harry and eying Snape warily. His small hands were again fisted in the trim of Harry's robes as he stood on Harry's thigh and shuffled as far back as possible. Harry rubbed his back awkwardly to try and soothe him.

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at the pair before raising an eyebrow at the obsidian Professor. Snape spluttered indignantly, his mouth opening and closing again, seemingly at a loss, or choked by his fury. Harry, yet again, would have found the image amusing under different circumstances.

"It's alright, Mal-err, _Draco_." he told the boy, who was trembling again, "Professor Snape was just trying to fix things, that's all."

The grey eyes were wide as the small mouth twisted.

"Was he going to fix me? I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

The small hands clenched tightly. Harry felt like he would drown in sympathy for the child.

"We know, Draco, we know, it's alright. You haven't done anything wrong." The boy looked only partially relieved, still staring timidly between them all. Harry drew him close.

"And nobody needs to fix you, you're fine just as you are."

He was trying to reassure the little boy who looked so close to tears, but of course, his efforts were thwarted when Snape spoke again.

"Do you usually deem people to be _fine as they are_ when they're three years old again?"

Harry glared at the Professor and Malfoy buried his face again.

"Severus, my dear boy, i think Harry was merely meaning to console the child."

Harry nodded. The blue eyes twinkled, as the Headmaster looked towards the pair of students.

"Now, Draco, you told me that Professor Snape shouted loudly at Harry. Is that the first thing you remember about today?"

Malfoy peeked around the material of Harry's robes, and nodded slowly. Dumbledore raised a hand at Snape's stuttering.

"I just woke up, and it was really loud." whispered the trembling voice as Dumbledore nodded for him to speak. Dumbledore smiled slightly. Malfoy peeked a little farther, seemingly bolder.

"Really really, loud like… Like a _Lion_!"

Harry couldn't bite down on all of the grin that jumped to his lips at the child's use of the word. Snape looked a little green just at the mention of being compared, even just in volume, to the animal representing his most hated rival House. Dumbledore simply smiled a little more, and gave another nod.

"Like a _Lion,_ you say. Interesting description, wouldn't you agree, my boys?"

Harry swallowed his grin and nodded solemnly, as Snape fumed silently.

"Everybody else was like Lions too." added Malfoy, seemingly eager to please the old man again after he had smiled so much at him. "Weren't they Harry? Like real live Lions roaring."

Harry grinned fully this time, looking down at the helpful grey eyes and nodding firmly.

"Some of them _are_ , technically." he said. Draco's eyes grew rounder.

"Really? Real live Lions?"

Harry laughed, and was sure Dumbledore chuckled.

"Sort of." he answered.

Draco looked thoughtful, ready to ask another question as there came a knock at the door and McGonagall stepped back into the room. She cast a suspicious glance at the Headmaster, who simply continued to smile pleasantly, and nodded to Snape before settling her eagle gaze upon Harry, who smiled weakly in response.

"It seems none of Mr Malfoy's Housemates heard or saw _anything_ regarding vials in their classroom today." she reported, and Harry was sure he heard the disapproval and perhaps slight disgust in her tone. Snape simply snorted, throwing her a glare.

"Whatever did you expect, Minerva? Members of my House do not make a habit of poisoning one another on a regular basis. Now, perhaps if you could _properly_ question the _other_ members of today's class, you'd find your culprit." he snapped, triumph glinting in his eyes as she bristled.

Harry couldn't help but think these two represented every member of their respective Houses, and the way they interacted around members of the other House. He glanced down at Draco, who looked up at him worriedly, shifting closer in a bid to hide better. Harry sighed.

"You're frightening him, Professors." he murmured quietly, interrupting as respectfully as he could, considering he was addressing his Head of House. With all eyes on him, he sighed again, looking helplessly down at Draco. Draco peeked out again and looked at Dumbledore, who looked thoughtful.

"Can we please just work out what we're going to do with him?" Harry asked the Headmaster, ignoring everyone else. "We're missing dinner." he added, cringing at how childish he sounded when something so huge had happened. But he hadn't had lunch, either, and tea and biscuits only went so far. He bet Draco was starving too.  
Dumbledore beamed strangely.

"Of course, my boy!"

"Nothing need be worked out, Draco will return to Slytherin with myself for the time being, until a solution is found."

Snape's cold voice was dismissive, and irritated Harry like few others could. Harry was already opening his mouth to argue when Dumbledore held up a hand. He reluctantly snapped his mouth shut.

"I was aware that you would say that, Severus."

"Surely you don't think that's wise, Albus!" gasped McGonagall, striding forwards. Snape shot her a glare before rising to his feet to meet her.

"Mr Malfoy is a Slytherin, therefore belongs in Slytherin dormitories with everyone else." he spat. McGonagall rolled her eyes.

"He is not safe there in his current condition. Surely you must be aware there are students who would take advantage of his more vulnerable state?"

Snape sneered at her words, his glare landing on Harry as he spoke.

"I'm sure those students are not restricted to Slytherin House." he snapped coldly, causing Harry to growl out a reply.

"And _I'm_ sure there are plenty more in Slytherin than anywhere else! Gryffindors wouldn't attack a _child_." he bit out, satisfied when the flicker of recognition glowed in Snape's eyes before being quenched.

"Wonderful idea, Harry!"

Harry halted, glancing at the Headmaster in a bewildered manner. Dumbledore merely smiled, and nodded contentedly, as though a decision had been made.

"Sir?"

"Gryffindor is a wonderful idea."

Harry realised what was being decided when Snape ground out a "No!"

Dumbledore simply gestured Snape to sit down, and waited till he had before turning back to Harry, or, more accurately, Draco.

"Draco?"

The small face turned in the Headmaster's direction but did not fully appear from Harry's robes.

"Until we can figure all of this mess out, we need to decide where you'll stay."

Draco looked from Dumbledore to McGonagall, to Snape to Harry and nodded slowly.

"Okay." he whispered meekly.

The blue eyes practically _glittered_ as the Headmaster smiled softly at him.

"You'll have to be kept in the school, i'm afraid, so we have to decide whether to put you in the Gryffindor Dorms or in the Slytherin ones." Draco nodded, eyes flickering between Harry and Snape.

"Now, dear boy, do we put you with the Lions or the Snakes?" he smiled.

Snape got to his feet again.

"Headmaster! That is unfairly-"

"Quiet now, Severus. Draco, where would you prefer you go?"

Draco drew back against Harry and looked at all the eyes watching him. He trembled, and swallowed audibly before looking up at Harry.

"Are you a Lion, Harry?" his small voice whispered.

Harry smiled down at him a little, and laughed.

"Yeah, i'm a Lion, Draco."

Draco tilted his head a little, piercing gaze completely focused on him.

"But not a really loud wild one?"

Harry laughed again, a grin splitting his face.

"Not always."

He ignored Snape's sharp snort. Everybody waited as Draco turned towards the Headmaster, glancing timidly in Snape's direction. Taking a breath and drawing himself up, the mini-Malfoy addressed Dumbledore.

"I'd like to stay with my Harry Lion." he stated confidently.

Then his cheeks went pink.

"Please."

Harry could feel the triumphant grin winding onto his lips, but contained it as he looked at Dumbledore, whose smile was amused, and, Harry secretly thought, also triumphant.

"Very well, Harry, you'll agree to taking up Draco's care for the time being? He'll sleep in your dorm and you shall have him supervised well, yes?"

Harry felt his wide-eyed stare even as he hastily nodded and agreed, wondering how he had managed not to realise he'd have to babysit the mini Malfoy. Snape hissed as he strode towards the desk, leaning both hands on it as he glared at Dumbledore.

"The boy can't live in _Gryffindor_! He's a Slytherin!"

A sudden thought occurred to Harry in the mir that was his tangled thoughts, and he felt his jaw tighten. His eyes snapped to the Headmaster's.

"Something occur to you, Harry?" asked the wise Headmaster, and Harry heard it for what it was; a prompt, and encouragement. Harry smiled softly, holding his gaze as he answered.

"Draco's only three just now. You don't get sorted by the Sorting Hat till you're eleven."

The room went deadly quiet as Snape pushed off the desk and strode right up to Harry, who rose to his feet to meet his glare, Draco held close on one hip, the furthest side from Snape.

"Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin, _Potter_. He's a _Malfoy._ "

Snape's tone was derisive, mocking. Harry bristled and merely stared back, emotion suddenly burning in his eyes as he drew his shoulders level.

"My Godfather was a _Black_. And a _Gryffindor_." he snapped.

Snape looked like he'd like to slap him. Or hex him, more likely.

"Potter-" his warning tone was cut off, however, with Dumbledore standing.

"Come now, my boys, we may still catch our dinners yet! Minerva?"

And with that, he dropped a paper bag in Harry's direction, Seeker instincts catching it and hurriedly shoving it in his robe pocket, as the three Professors turned to leave for the Great Hall. Harry shifted Draco on his hip and followed, suddenly nervous about all the eyes that would be upon him as they entered.

More so than usual, inevitably.


	4. The First Supper

_Chapter Four_

He tried his best to ignore the staring, the fact that the room went deathly silent as the doors opened. It was obvious that news of what had happened had made the rounds as quickly as usual, and people were craning to get a look at Harry Potter carrying the child-version of Draco Malfoy, his most hated enemy, bar Voldemort. Well, Voldemort, Lucius and Bellatrix, really. It took what seemed like forever to reach his friends at the Gryffindor table barely a third of the way down the Hall, a comforting pat on his shoulder from Dumbledore making him feel only slightly better.

Draco clung to him with a death grip, face pressed firmly into Harry's shoulder, and Harry realised he still wasn't ready to face the situation the way his friends were going to ask him to. He was suddenly incredibly nervous of their reactions. He hadn't seen them since their Potions Class first thing. And then, he had no time left to prepare because he stood facing them, holding Draco awkwardly and trying to ignore the ferocious whispering happening all around him.

Neville, Seamus, Ginny, Dean and Ron stared at him in disgusted fascination while Hermione managed to look both curious, reluctant, empathetic and encouraging at the same time. Fred and George simply gave him identical small, albeit curious smiles, and, when nobody shifted immediately, they parted to allow Harry to slip onto the bench between them, Draco fearfully clinging to him as he settled the child on his knee. Dumbledore reached his own seat and clinked his glass, effectively capturing the attention of the room.

"The apple pie is looking particularly delectable tonight, do not halt your meal on our account." he stated with a smile, and then proceeded to begin helping himself.

Slowly but surely chatter returned, and clinking cutlery resumed. It didn't take much to know that most of the urgent, battling voices were discussing the most recent Potter Palaver. Harry, still being looked at expectantly by his own circle of friends and not quite ready to deal with them, decided to focus everything on the trembling child on his knee, pointing out things on various plates and asking Draco what he wanted to eat, deliberately ignoring everyone else.

The child eventually shuffled around to face the table, but kept peering around balefully at the faces who kept shooting glances at him, looking away when they made eye-contact. He was incredibly nervous, and in an attempt to make him more at ease Harry gave him his full attention, completely ignoring the others, and once he had followed his lead Draco relaxed just enough for Harry to collect the things he asked for so quietly and so politely.

"Anything i want?" the small voice had asked, subdued, and Harry's inner self had smirked at the irony of him encouraging Draco Malfoy to have whatever he wanted.

Yeah." he whispered back, "whatever you like, Draco."

The child had stared at the table with such a serious, pondering expression that Harry couldn't help but smile.

Harry had to stifle a laugh at the selection. An almond cookie, three marshmallows, a tiny slice of chicken and a larger slice of apple pie, ice-cream included, and two small clementines. Harry bargained with him to get him to also eat a small spoonful of mashed potato, grinning when the child managed to haggle him for another scoop of ice-cream.

Once Draco was munching away, Harry grabbed a chicken leg, as he could eat it with his hand and leave Draco the plate, and finally looked up at his friends. The twins looked non-plussed, but grinned widely when he finally acknowledged them.

"Taken up baby-sitting now, have we Harry?" grinned George.

Harry felt his cheeks go red.

"Nahh, he's adopted a Malfoy." answered Fred.

Harry shook his head and swallowed a grin, looking skyward.

"I hear they make rubbish pets, mate." added George.

Harry, surprising himself, laughed. Draco looked up at him, expression indignant.

"I'm not a _pet_! Am i, Harry?"

The Gryffindor group went silent at the sound of Draco calling Harry _Harry_. Child or not, it was still extremely odd. Harry ignored them and shook his head.

"No, you're not. You're a Malfoy."

Draco nodded, and returned his attention to the marshmallow on the end of his fork. Harry smiled bemusedly at the sight of someone eating marshmallows with a _fork_ , for Merlin's sake. Malfoys.

"So, Harry. Are you going to tell us why we've got a cursed bloody Slytherin at _our_ table?"

Harry looked up sharply at Ron's snippy question, even as Hermione smacked his arm.

"Ron!"

"Ow! What? What did i do?"

Hermione huffed.

"You know perfectly well. We discussed the possibility of having Malfoy for dinner seeing as Harry was so attached to him!" she hissed. Harry looked at her in shock.

"I'm not _attached_ to him!"

This was still _Malfoy_ , for god's sake! Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Really. Then tell me why you wouldn't hand him over to Snape."

Harry flushed, but refused to look away.

"Because Snape's a nasty bastard, and this is just a kid."

Hermione was the only one who didn't grumble under their breath. Well, except the twins, but they never reacted to anything like expected.

"He's a Malfoy." muttered Ron, this time dodging Hermione's smack.

" _He's_ a nasty bastard too."

Harry glared at him as Draco looked up sharply, eyes widening.

"Now look!" he snapped, as Draco swallowed and flushed a ruddy pink colour, eyes shimmering.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, Ron's just being stupid."

"What? _Harry_!"

"Shut _up_ Ron."

"Hermione!"

" _Ron_!"

Harry ignored them as he touched the small shoulders of the Malfoy, one hand rubbing awkwardly.

"Hey, it's okay, Draco. Don't cry."

Draco sniffled, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes once.

"I'm not." he whispered. "Malfoys don't cry."

Harry frowned but didn't say anything, and Hermione caught his eye, obviously having heard, and looked concerned for a moment before looking away uncomfortably. He knew it was going to take time for everybody to accept Malfoy's presence, even he himself wasn't entirely at ease with it. And he knew that everyone would react as Hermione did, uncomfortable with feeling sympathy or concern for what was, essentially, the enemy.

Harry sighed, and then looked at Ron, tilting his head in Draco's direction.

"What?" his friend asked, slightly bewildered looking.

"Apologise." filled in Hermione, scowling as Ron shook his head.

"To a Malfoy?" he asked in disgust. Hermione whacked his arm again and he winced.

"To a _child_ , Ron."

"Sorry." he muttered darkly, shuffling away from her, and Hermione sent a tense smile in the child's direction.

The rest of dinner was a terse affair, at best. By the time they'd cleared their plates they had argued over the same ground so many times that Harry's head felt heavy. Ron wasn't speaking to him, and Hermione had questioned everything from why Harry had jumped his desk in Potions to how he had convinced Snape to allow him to keep the child. It was no surprise to any who had been present in the class that Snape had glared maliciously at the group through the whole meal, and Dean reported that the Potions Master hadn't eaten anything, too focused on trying to kill them with his gaze.

Ron had stormed off as soon as he had finished, and Hermione had smiled apologetically to Harry and followed him, telling Harry she'd talk some sense into their stubborn best friend. The others had filtered off with most of the student body, and the twins had elected to wait on Harry while he waited on Draco. As they were getting ready to leave, Harry snagging one of the empty side bowls to carry Draco's clementines and some other things he'd chosen - the child was an _incredibly_ slow eater - the twins had turned their backs to them, suddenly, and Harry looked back to see what was going on.

Beyond the twins stood a trio that Harry just simply couldn't stand. Pansy Parkinson, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and stared defiantly up at the faces of the twins.

"You're headed in the wrong direction, Pansy," said George sweetly.

"Door's that way." Fred finished off smoothly in that disconcerting way they have.

"Push off, redheads. We've come for Draco. You'd had your chance to pose with him, _Potter_ , now hand him over."

Harry turned and stood between the twins, leaving the blonde in question sitting on the bench behind him.

"Just leave it, Parkinson, he's not going with you."

Her muddy eyes spat at him as he crossed his arms, alert and aware from years of watching the Slytherins that she carried her wand up her sleeve, just as Draco did. She growled, not as good at the cool, collected facade as the blonde pureblood. Harry blinked. Less of Draco, more focus on the problem at hand, his logical mind chided.

"You _cannot_ be serious. He's coming with us, he's _our_ Housemate."

Harry shook his head, and warmed when he saw the twins were mirroring him.

"He's going nowhere with _you_ , Parkinson." Fred pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah, we've adopted him for the time being." added George.

"Run along." they chimed together, and even Harry felt uncomfortable at the bizarre way they intoned it precisely the same.

It was eery.

Eery enough that the two Slytherin bodyguards shifted uncomfortably behind Pansy, looking away from the Gryffindors. Their temporary Leader snarled, and stepped towards Harry, who didn't have time to react before the twins closed ranks before him.

"Potter you better watch out." she hissed, "we don't give up that easily."

Harry wondered at her backing off, before he noticed McGonagall striding their way. As the Slytherin's strode off, they were joined by Zabini who had been casually leaning against the Great Doors, watching.

"Mr Potter, come with me. Madame Pomfrey is ready to check on Mister Malfoy."

She glanced between the twins, not fooled by their innocent expressions. Her stern expression did soften, a tad, Harry thought. Or maybe his brain was just addled. Rescuing a Malfoy was one thing, but thinking he could see softness in the features of his Head of House was simply silly talk. He nodded to the twins as they grinned at him, George leaning over for the bowl of Clementines, both giving a small wave to the child watching them all curiously, before they sauntered up the aisle and out of the Hall. Harry wondered if McGonagall had noticed they had turned in the opposite direction of the Gryffindor tower. He looked at her. Her stern gaze was thoughtful and a little worried, but before Harry could fully take that in she had made a shooing gesture with her hands and begun to stride off again.

"The Hospital Wing, Mr Potter. We don't have all evening."

With that she disappeared, and Harry turned back to the bench where the reason for today's excitement sat, munching on a marshmallow.

"Come on, you." he sighed, reaching his arms out for Malfoy. The child reached for him too, and Harry felt a weird twist in his abdomen, wondering if this was what Mrs Weasley was always talking about, the parent things she spoke of. He shook his head to clear it. Now he _knew_ his brain was addled.


	5. A Practical Gift

_Chapter Five_

Another two hours of being quizzed and examined and prodded later and Harry had finally had enough. He had snapped at Pomfrey's repetitive testing and the same batch of questions circling like some infuriating Merry-go-round. She had tested Draco for anything and everything she could think of.

There was no charm, curse, spell or physical wound that she could find. There was no magical signature beside Draco's own, and she couldn't find any proof of Legilimency or that he'd been Compelled in any way shape or form. At the end of their visit, they'd gleaned no new information, Harry was beyond irritable and Draco was falling asleep. Harry bid the Healer goodnight, with the promise to bring Draco back in the morning.

He ignored her suggestion that Draco would be welcome in the Hospital Wing. Small hands had clenched in his robes and he hadn't yet regained his previous ability to refuse what the Slytherin wanted. It seemed, Harry thought wearily on his way back to Gryffindor tower, that there must be some sort of spell on Malfoy that made it temporarily difficult to hate him. He didn't want to think about the implications that worry raised.

He ignored the staring and the whispering as he climbed awkwardly through the portrait hole in the Gryffindor Common Room, and was halfway across before anything caught his attention. Hermione appeared in his path as though she'd Apparated there, and held out her hand with a bashful redness in her cheeks. He looked at her properly, and couldn't help returning her smile. Hermione was, with Ron too of course, his very best friend, and her support at dinner had been the only thing holding Harry together. She glanced at the child in his arms before meeting his gaze again, and offering the item in her hand.

"The early years are fundamental in building strong teeth for life." she said, her blush increasing at an alarming rate. The object in her hand was a toothbrush, and the banality of such a thing forced Harry to look at it properly. It was a child's plastic toothbrush, the type with a fairly chunky handle to make it easier for younger children. It was an almost clear material, in a deep, warm green, and there looked to be a small blue oval inside. The toothbrush bristles themselves were small and striped in green and white, and sprouted from the caricature head of a snake. Harry smiled as he met her gaze. The bushy-haired girl shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"I thought maybe he'd like a reminder, you know. If he's still Malfoy trapped inside his own younger self, then maybe something Slytherin-y might be comforting…"

She trailed off with a cough, and Harry took the toothbrush from her gratefully.

"You're a wonderful person, you know that, Hermione?"

She shook her head and brushed his words aside with her hand, but her eyes gleamed at his words.

"Make sure he brushes, okay?"

Harry grinned, and tapped the toothbrush to his forehead in a mock salut, startling himself when it began to flash. Looking at Hermione worriedly, he watched bemusedly as she giggled.

"It lights up. It's a Muggle thing, it flashes for the length of time children are supposed to brush for. To keep them engaged, you know."

With a sudden jolt, Harry remembered her telling him that her parents were Dentists. He frowned.

"Your parents send you kid's toothbrushes?"

She laughed, and then smiled sheepishly.

" _No_. I transfigured it out of one of the cushions."

Harry laughed, and thanked her again. Thinking on the toothbrush as he made his way up the staircase, Harry marvelled that Hermione had transfigured an object with moving, electronic parts and several textures, out of a simple suede cushion. Would her wonders never cease? Stepping into his dorm room, Harry stopped short.

There was an extra bed right next to Harry's, his second beside table moved around next to the far end so that the two beds were so close together they were almost touching. The drapes on the new bed and the covers themselves were suspiciously neutral in colour, and looked pale and quiet amidst the loud reds and golds filling the rest of the room. Harry sat down on his bed, turning the sleepy child around to face him as he unbuttoned the small shirt after a moment's hesitation. Hermione would probably have been a better choice for this, being motherly as she was, but Harry knew she'd be uncomfortable with it, and Draco would freak out anyway. Thinking about Draco's behaviour during the course of the whole thing made Harry feel both inordinately special and worried at the same time. Draco's social skills seemed totally under-developed, and Harry wondered just how often the Malfoy heir had ever actually been allowed to talk to other people. Again came that little pang of understanding empathy that had been surfacing all day.

Draco's bleary grey eyes barely opened as he helped Harry wriggle him out of his black slacks and his tiny black socks. It wasn't till Harry was holding Draco upright again, as he slipped in and out of sleep, that he realised they hadn't collected any of the Malfoy's clothes yet. Settling the small child on the bed, he retrieved the most presentable pair of his own pyjamas, shrinking them down to tiny Draco-seized using the spell Hermione had taught them over summer. He looked at the dozing child and reluctantly woke him again.

"Hey, Draco. I know, i know you want to sleep, but first you need to go to the toilet, and put on pyjamas and then brush your teeth, kay?" Draco nodded sleepily, climbing into Harry's lap when he sat next to him.

"Then i can sleep?"

Harry smiled.

"Then you can sleep, promise."

"Okay, Harry."

He told himself that it was perfectly okay to smile at the reply, and forced the thoughts of this being _Malfoy_ out of his head as he carried him to the bathroom. Draco whimpered only slightly as his bare feet met the cold floor, and Harry felt instantly guilty that he'd already taken Draco's socks off.

"Sorry." he whispered, and Draco only yawned in reply.

Finishing in the bathroom, and smiling again at the light-up toothbrush Hermione had transfigured, Harry dressed Draco for bed and carried him over, almost to drop him when he pulled back the covers on the pale bed. Where Harry's hand had made contact with the soft material, there appeared a pool of colour, spreading out from his palm. He managed to swallow his yelp and only hissed in surprise, his tension however woke Draco fully and the child pressed against him as he took in what was going on.

"Wow." breathed Harry, as the entire cover swirled in colours for a second before settling to a deep yellow that darkened into a golden colour towards the foot of the bed, the entire thing streaked with shades of reds and blues, depending on which way you tilted your head. Draco seemed equally fascinated, reaching out to touch the soft material. As he did, it instantly began to change again, deepening into a midnight colour, with a starry silver trim and speckles of white silver all over. Draco squealed suddenly with delight, and Harry gaped at him.

"They're magic, Harry! I've got special _magic_ covers!"

His voice was thrilled and eager and unrestrained and Harry's surprise soon melted as he placed the child upon the bed. Draco scrambled into the centre of the bed, touching the pillows and watching with sparkly-eyed enthusiasm as they softened into a silvery colour, and as Draco settled himself in the bed under the drapes, they began fading too, to a slightly lighter blue, a moon and stars in baby yellow starting to slowly drift across the top in a lazy fashion. Harry was transfixed. Draco breathed out again in wonder, his eyes reflecting the blue and silver and looking at Harry with a free excitement that Harry was relieved to see. So the little Malfoy _did_ know how to let go and act like a wonder-struck child, he was just usually trained not to. Well. For the time Harry would be looking after him, he would need to change that.

Draco smiled drowsily, curled in the centre of the bed with his sleepy gaze following the nonsensical patterns of the moon. Harry watched as the eyes dropped shut, and the breathing of the child evened out before putting out the light to head downstairs. He was further pleased to see that the moon and stars on the drapes and starry flecks on the bed covers glowed softly in the fading light from outside. Smiling to himself, Harry shut the door and headed down the winding staircase to his friends in the Common Room.


End file.
